A Warden's Dance
by Browny Pink
Summary: "That... was supposed to be dancing?" he asked. She turned nearly purple then, and he wondered if she might pass out. But ooh, this was too good. Mage Warden and Alistair. Pure fluff. Enjoy!


**_A/N: WARNING! The following is pure fluff. I'll be honest. I've been in a good mood lately. A really good mood - which isn't so great for the doom and gloom of my other stories (When Given Dandelions excluded). And I've been playing Dragon Age: Inquisition lately which got me to thinking about my favorite romance from the series which was Alistair because ... Well because Alistair is just a very charming character. So, here I am, expunging all the fluff from my mood so I can go back to writing about hopeless loves and mass murderers._**

**_That said! This is my first fanfiction in the Dragon Age Fandom even though, ironically, my first attempt at writing a fanfiction was for the very same category (SebastionXHawke if you're wondering, and it didn't go so well.). I hope I do the world justice because it holds a very dear place in my heart. _**

**_Not sure about this title, but I can't think of something better..._**

**_This takes place fairly soon after the game starts. Sometime after Lothering but before they do anything involving the Warden Treaties. Again, it's really fluffy, and probably silly. But it was also a fun thing to write. Now, I've blathered enough._**

**_ENJOY!_**

**_DISCLAIMER: I do not own Dragon Age: Origins, II, or Inquisition. This was made for entertainment purposes only with no intent on copy infringement._**

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><p><strong>A Warden's Dance<strong>

_'The fire could do with some tending,'_ Alistair thought as he prodded at the crackling embers of the slow dying fire.

Alistair was on the first watch for that night, and he just knew it was going to be a long few hours. For one thing, it was freezing - absolutely. Especially in his metal armor. Armor like his was not so much fun to wear when it was extremely cold ... Or really hot. Actually, it just wasn't the most comfortable except on the nice temperate days. Though, he supposed he shouldn't complain too much since it kept the bad people with their very sharp weapons from sticking said weapons into his vulnerable parts. And he still preferred it to the leather armor Leliana wore or, Maker forbid, the mage robes like Solana's. Sometimes, it astounded him that she didn't come out of battle with more injuries ... Of course, if anyone got too close to her, she could just zap them.

Alistair cringed as his mind flashed back to some particularly daring bandits who'd seen fit to bother them just outside of Lothering, who were now little more than a little crisp now. Definitely glad she was on his side ... And that she hadn't turned him into a toad yet, not that he really thought she would anymore. Morrigan, however, was another story.

Nearly five weeks had passed since the Battle of Ostagar, he realized. Five weeks from the day he'd first seen her lurking around the edges of the camp, looking for all the world like a child with a sweet roll. At the time, he hadn't understood what had been so appealing to her about the loud, crowded place, but later she explained that this was the first time she had been outside of the Circle within memory.

Normally, Alistair preferred to avoid spending too much time around mages. Perhaps it was the Templar in him. Perhaps - and he wasn't afraid to admit this even if he was a manly man - it was the tremendous and sometimes terrible power they wielded. Regardless, the more time he spent in Solana's company, the more he realized that he didn't seem care so much that she _was_ a mage. And it wasn't that she was one of the _good_ mages, or that she was very pretty with her bright eyes and easy smiles, or even her quirky habits that came from living one's entire life inside a single building. It was her heart, her laugh, her kindness.

She wasn't like any of the other mages he'd met. She wasn't all stuffy and pompous about her abilities, nor was she the kind that made him worry they could turn into an abomination at any minute - at least he highly doubted she would. No, she was the kind who could persuade the Revered Mother to release a very large, very scary Qunari into her custody, the kind to scavenge the far corners of Lothering just to make sure the townspeople were well supplied for future attacks. She was the person who would laugh at his silly jokes, even crack a few of her own at times, and she was..

And _Alistair_ was in big trouble. The Revered Mother back at the Chantry he'd trained at would be having fits if she knew what he thought about that "filthy mage."

... On second though, that might be hilarious to watch.

With one more useless attempt to prod some more life into the sputtering fire in front of him, Alistair pushed himself to his feet. Taking just a moment to trade his armor for a warmer long-sleeved tunic and a wool cloak, the Grey Warden headed off into the woods just behind their tents.

He had to wander a little farther out than he personally preferred as it was difficult to find wood that wasn't damp. Everything was always damp in Fereldan. Probably why everyone always complained that the country smelled like wet dog all the time, he mused. It was after he had collected a good armful of mostly dry wood that he heard it.

Someone was humming.

Alistair froze and listened. The sound was fairly close, coming from his left, and after a moment, he realized he recognized the tune. It was one of the songs Leliana sang when they were all around the fire. Though, he noted with a wince that this person couldn't quite hit the high notes ... Or the low notes. If they would stick with a good medium range, however, they'd be golden. While he doubted this person was an enemy - because really, how stupid did you have to be if you were making singing just outside the camp you planned to attack? And also, the voice was a very familiar one - Alistair still thought it prudent to at least make sure ... Oh alright, he was just really curious.

With this in mind, he set aside the pile of carefully collected wood, wiping his hands off on his breeches, and sneaked towards the source of the humming. Although sneaking wasn't exactly his strong suit, he doubted they would hear him as she was clearly quite invested in whatever she was doing. In moments, he stumbled upon a small clearing of trees, and smack dab in the middle of it was Solana. Though it was difficult to recognize her with her hair down and in her face, he would know that smile anywhere at this point.

She was ... Well, he actually wasn't quite sure what she was hoping to accomplish to be truthful.

The mage woman held her back straight with her arms held up as she made these odd little hops and spins. And humming all the while. A smile came unbidden to his face, and a chuckle escaped before he could stop it.

Immediately, she spun around, sparks gathering down her arms as she prepared to attack. Eyes widening, he let out a decidedly manly yelp and raised his hands in surrender. "Woah! It's just me! Alistair, your dashing partner in Wardening."

Recognition hit her then, and she lowered her hands, letting the magic dispel. However, a few stubborn sparks still crawled across her arms. Alistair let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding as she smiled at him.

"I hardly recognized you without all the armor," she teased him, though he thought she was blushing in embarrassment from having been caught in the middle of whatever-it-was he'd caught her in the middle of. _'Good,'_ He thought. He'd certainly blushed his fair share around her.

Giving her a wolfish grin of his own, he answered, "I'll have you know the armor's essential for the whole 'Knight in Shining Armor' image I reflect. The 'Knight in Cotton Breeches doesn't have quite the same ring to it, don't you think?"

She giggled, pressing a hand against her mouth. Then stepping closer to him, she glanced up at him from under her lashes in a way that made his throat tighten. "Oh, I don't know ..." Her eyes flicked down over his casual attire. "You seem to pull it off alright."

Swallowing hard, his brain scrambled to come up with an answer. "Ah, well, of course... Wait, only alright?"

She laughed again, taking pity on him. "Someone's fishing for compliments tonight."

There. That was safer territory. Shrugging, he said, "Well, it's not like my pride doesn't need it in the face of such an emasculatingly dangerous woman like yourself." After a moment of silence, he cleared his throat. "What exactly is it you're planning to accomplish in the middle of the night with your humming and ... er, jumping?"

Swatting his shoulder, she scrunched up her face. "I wasn't jumping. I was..." The sentence died on her lips, her face turning an interesting shade of red. Ooh, this was getting good.

"Yes~?" he prompted, his smile widening.

With a sigh, she pressed a hand against her face. "Maker, I swear if you laugh ..."

"No promises," he warned her, wiggling his eyebrows.

After another long moment, she gave in. "Well, after we defeat the Archdemon, I imagine there'll be a big party for us, right?"

"I hadn't really thought about it, but yes, I imagine there will be."

"Yes, well, I just thought it would be nice if I knew how to dance," Solana mumbled, suddenly finding her shoes very interesting.

"_That,_" he began, raising an eyebrow, "was supposed to be dancing?"

Her face went all purple then, and he wondered if she might pass out. But, oh this was too good. It almost beat out their conversation on licking lampposts seasonally... Nope, not quite. Before she could come up with an actual response, she opened and closed her mouth a few times. "It's not like I've had the opportunity for lessons," she finally settled on. She was indignant for a moment longer, but he was too busy stifling his laughter to feel any animosity as her face lit up with a new - devious - idea. "Well, why don't you teach me then? You obviously know a lot about the subject?"

"Obviously," he reiterated, but his smile was less certain than before.

No, he very much did _not_ obviously know a lot about dancing. Growing up as the bastard child of a King, he had been discouraged by several people of upstanding position from engaging in noble practices like dancing. Couldn't have him grow up to over throw the kingdom with the magnitude of his grand plie. Of course, Eamon hadn't really cared about all that, so he had managed to learn the basics.

He'd been terrible at it, of course - all limbs and no grace to speak of, and he probably should've told Solana all of that. But behind the teasing glint in her eyes, a quiet sort of hope shown through. Really now, how could he have said no to a face like that?

So, resigning himself to the not-_so_-terrible fate of holding a gorgeous woman in his arm and to the disaster this was sure to be, Alistair called to mind everything he'd learned on the subject. With a gentlemanly bow tempered by his usual wolfish grin, he offered her his hand. "Milady, would you do me the gracious favor of this dance?"

A small smile, different than the one she normally wore stretching across her face, she slipped her long,nimble fingers around his, and her hand was cold because it _was_ cold outside. But her cheeks were possibly the reddest he'd ever seen them, and it was comforting to know she was just as affected by him as he was her. Because, right then, his heart kept trying to beat out of his chest, which was ridiculous considering they'd faced darkspawn and a witch of the wilds and a load of other bad guys, yet somehow it wasn't. Because his mind kept reminding him that, yes, that woman in his arms _was_ Solana, and that seemed to be the only thing that mattered.

Then they were dancing.

Well, dancing was a strong word for it because he was never much better than her to begin with. But she was listening to the few instructions he could give and stopped trying to jump while she danced. That was an improvement, wasn't it? For the next short while, they worked on finding a groove, and they got to a point where he mangaged to not step on her toes as much - something he was willing to let her blame on her own inexperience as she apologized every time. He thought that was the best they were going to get in all truthfulness.

Yet he still didn't let her go. She was pressed against him, all soft curves and sweet scents from those oils Leliana had brought with her, and he _really_ just wanted to stay like that for a while longer, possibly forever. A long, difficult path had been laid at their feet, and Alistair didn't know if there would be time for more moments like that. But Maker, he hoped so.

After a time, it probably couldn't have even been considered a dance because they were just spinning in a lazy circle. Her arms were looped around his neck, and his hands rested on the curve of her waist as they hummed one of Leliana's songs.

It ended all too soon, but he knew he needed to get back to the watch he was supposed to be on. And she needed to sleep before they continued on in the morning. Therefore, her hands slowly - reluctantly, he liked to think - slid from their resting place, brushing against the back of his neck in a way that drove him crazy, and she curtsied to him.

"Thank you for the dance, Ser Knight," she said with that small, strange smile from earlier.

"The pleasure was all mine," he returned, and feeling daring, he lifted one of her hands and pressed a kiss on the back of it that lasted possibly longer than strictly necessary, which had both of them wearing matching shades of red.

He collected his pile of wood from where he'd left it earlier, and then they returned to camp together, discussing matters of little importance. However, the subject hardly mattered at that point as the damage was already done. His mind flashed back to the rose he had picked in Lothering, and he wondered if she might like it ... It begged further thought at any rate.

Just as they stepped back into camp, her hand rests on his arm. "Save me another dance when we win this thing?" she said, and it was more of a question than a statement. So he took it as such.

"Absolutely." Once again, he felt rather daring that night. Probably because he was beginning to realize that his feelings were possibly not so one-sided anymore. Maybe. His tone deepened as he continued. "Though I had hoped we might get a bit more practice in before hand. With luck, we won't stomp on each other's feet at all by the time the celebration comes around." She laughed at that, and they continued walking.

They reached her tent, but she stopped just before going in, turning to him once more. "Goodnight, Alistair," she near-whispers to him, wearing that smile he would later realize was reserved only for him.

"Sleep well, Solana," he answered, finding himself lowering his voice to match hers, his eyes softening in fondness. And with that, she disappeared into her tent.

When he finally stepped back towards his earlier position, the fire had long gone out. But somehow, he really just didn't care anymore.

**The End**

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><p><em><strong>AN: Well, there it is. I hope you've enjoyed it, and maybe in the future I'll write another one for this fandom as I have other ideas that I probably shouldn't considering how many writing projects I already have. Either way, I had fun writing this short little story, and I hoped you enjoyed reading it.**_

_**If so, let me know! I love reviews/favorites et cetera!**_

_**Thanks for reading!**_

_**ONWARD!**_

-Alyssa


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